Denouement
by Kiss of the Breeze
Summary: Some people take retirement better than others. Some don't mind the idea at all, so long as they have the right place to call home. On the look out for a new place to stay, the Pink Palace presents itself. :movie-verse:


_**(Disclaimer & A/N): I know it gets old, but it's nice to always state the obvious, I do not own anything from the movie or book Coraline. And for this story, the disclaimer specifically refers to Ms. Spink and Forcible. I don't know about you guys, but I personally loved April and Miriam. They remind me of old lady versions of myself and my friend, without the terriers, of course.**_

_**Also, I have a Bobinsky story in the making, too. Be on the look out for it in the near future. There just aren't very many things dedicated to these adorable side characters. **_

"I don't like it," Miriam replied tartly after giving the small apartment a once over. She adjusted the light purple boa better onto her shoulders and smoothed out her worn blue gown, frowning that the bright fabric now had dust smudges on it from the house. "Women of our caliber should not even consider abiding in such filth."

"I don't know, I quite like the cozy feeling." The woman's shorter friend coaxed from above her, at the top of the stairs leading down to the apartment door. "It's very old, you know. The realtor assured that the masonry dates back over a century." April enjoyed things from antiquity and knew very well that her friend shared her fondness.

The first woman pursed her lips and looked back into the dimly lit entry way again. Older things held many secrets, she reasoned, and felt that she was proof of this. She turned her attention back up to April, who's bright pink coat was slightly blinding the way that it was catching the afternoon sun, "It does have some charm to it, doesn't it?" Often, the busty blonde was swayed in opinions before she even realized what was happening, "Just needs some sprucing, here and there. And, we've dealt with tighter accommodations before, that atrocious trailer back in the sixties, you recall?"

"It was the seventies, dear, but yes," April answered while holding out her hand to her friend as she laboriously climbed the last two steps. It wouldn't be too many more years before the climb would be too much of a strain on their old limbs. Miriam didn't accept the offered help and brushed past the other woman, heading towards their old, black 1958 Chevy Impala.

"No, it was sixties," The light haired woman corrected while her hands fumbled into her leather purse for the keys. They had driven up posthaste to inspect the newly advertised vacancy of the Pink Palace after being evicted from their third apparent just the previous morning –was it their fault the neighbors were allergic to dogs?

"Seventies." The graying red-head said, bumping her hip against the taller female and extracting the car keys from her coat pocket; Miriam had the memory of a goldfish. "I'll be driving, thank you." The other woman gave an indignant huff but walked around to the other side of the vehicle.

Excited barks greeted them from the back seat as the two older ladies climbed in and buckled up. "Quiet down, boys," the taller woman called over her shoulder as she tugged hard on the seatbelt to bring it across her chest. In the seat beside her, April was pulling her evening hat down further onto her head as if it were the helmet of a race-car driver, "Hold onto something, Forcible. Let's blow this popsicle-stand!"

She turned the ignition and revved the engine before even taking it out of gear, enjoying the feel of the hum under her foot. Miriam was unphased and simply sighed while rolling her eyes, having grown used to her friend's antics long ago. Giving no warning, the car was thrown into reverse and it screeched loudly as it was forced into acceleration down the driveway. Dirt and small rocks flew up from either side of the wheels and the driver laughed giddily as she banked a hard turn, bringing the car around before speeding off down the road.

* * *

The sun was going down on their first day as tenets of the Pink Palace and life, somehow, felt right. April came into the kitchen, hair wrapped in a dark green towel from her recent shower and a dark blue robe seemed to be the only other thing she had on. "The bathroom is nice, I think they run the place off natural gas, I was able to get in a wonderful long shower before it began going chill," the woman said looking at her roommate seated at the small, round kitchen table.

Miriam shrugged, she had changed into her favorite white nightgown- a relic from when her figure fit it better- and her short white hair was up in multiple little pink rollers. She was sipping at a cup of tea and looking through one of the many small boxes cluttering the table, pulling out little knickknacks and memorabilia. The movers had kindly taken care of the larger furniture arrangements for them and now all that was left was to unpack their personal items.

"I do believe there's something in this house," the seated woman commented as she pulled out a deck of cards and looked them over. "I can feel it."

The robed woman nodded somberly, then shrugged, "Yes, I got that sensation as well." She admitted. Neither female seemed particularly troubled by the topic at hand. "It's very vague though, like it lives on the other side of the house," April continued, walking over to the table and pulling out the other wooden chair and easing herself into it. She picked up the cards that her friend had just discarded and looked over their faded art. "I can't tell if it's malevolent or not."

The other woman gave a throaty chuckle and waved her hand through the air as if dismissing the idea. "What ever it is, it should well know that it cannot mess with us," she said holding up a quartz stone pendant from out of the box. "We're out of it's league. Most things feed off ignorance, and we don't have to worry about that."

"Nope," April agreed with a nod. A thump sounded from somewhere out side, causing the small dogs who'd been previously occupied sniffing around their new home to suddenly forget their investigation and run to the door. "Hamish III, Jock Jr.! Angus! Get your muzzles back over here and sit down! Nosy little angels." Both ladies were working their way into standing to go and see what it was their dogs were barking at.

Miriam made it to the door first, opening it and peering out into the quickly dissipating twilight. There was another noisy clamor before staggering into view came a black cat. The thin creature shook his head and glanced behind him with a look of disapproval, if cats could appear such. "It's nothing more than a feline," the busty woman informed her roommate. April pushed herself into the doorway as well and looked up at the animal, "Ah."

The cat looked at them for a moment before giving a meow and bowing its head, going down on it forepaws as if extending a greeting. The two women chuckled and then nodded their heads back, "Best go along, we've nothing but dog kibble here," The shorter female called up to it. The cat twitched its ears and appeared to nod before scurrying along out of sight. The two friends shared a look and then herded their terriers back into the apartment so that they could close the door behind them.

"What an unusually polite pussycat," April voiced as she unwrapped her hair and turned to go back to the bathroom to grab a comb.

"Could be a Familiar," the taller woman said with a conspiratorial tone to her voice. "Sometimes, I wonder if things follow us or if we're perhaps drawn unconsciously to them." She made her way back into the kitchen and looked back over to the boxes on the table and the charms and miscellaneous items that she had strewn about. She wondered if (were it something more than just an ordinary cat) it would be in alignment with whatever presence she and her friend had sensed within the other parts of the Pink Palace.

April came back into view again, working tangles out of her unruly curls. "I think we have finally found the perfect place to retire," she said cheerfully as she began digging into the spice-cabinet, one of the first things that was tended to as far as unpacking went. Tea sounded like a marvelous idea.

"It's a shame we couldn't have gotten that spacious flat over in Fort Klamath, the one with the hot-tube," Miriam sighed wishfully as she took her seat once more at the table.

"You're thinking of the flat in Medford," the shorter woman commented as she turned on the stove eye and placed an ancient looking brass kettle of water over it to heat.

"Medford had the dinky little single-story and that horrid rusty metal fence. The place I am talking about most certainly is in Fort Klamath," came the self assured counter.

"Medford," this time her voice was slightly sing song as she took down a square, clay cup to put her tea into. She was prepared to argue, they had all night.

"Fort Klamath." They had all of retirement, actually.


End file.
